


Just A Taste

by etotakatsuki



Series: Tokyo Ghoul Femslash Week [2]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Tokyo Ghoul Femslash Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6422188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etotakatsuki/pseuds/etotakatsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Touka has always wondered what food tastes like.</p><p>TG Femslash Week, Day 3: Taste</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Taste

Touka has always wondered what food tastes like.

She watches humans fawn over it, discuss their favorite dishes or restaurants, take care in packing and sharing their lunches every day. Food is a positive thing for humans. Something they can bond over. 

She doesn’t understand.

Touka doesn’t look forward to meals. Each one is a reminder that she’s an outcast in human society, a monster pretending to fit in. She eats when she has to – she doesn’t have the same revulsion Kaneki held, and she wants to live. She doesn’t enjoy it, but it’s something she has to do. So she does.

But she’s had this fixation on humans sharing meals since she was young – and it’s only grown stronger since Yoriko stopped making her meals.

Touka sighs and drops her pencil on the table, along with any illusions she has of getting work done tonight. The accounts and paperwork can wait until morning, she decides.

She stands and stretches, twisting her muscles to work out the stiffness, and heads into the kitchen of the small apartment she shares with Yoriko.

They’ve been living together for a while now, ever since Touka worked up the courage to confess a few things. They’d finally reconnected after years apart, and Touka had worried she’d ruined everything – until Yoriko leaned in and kissed her, and Touka felt the world melt away.

She still feels that way each time Yoriko looks at her, and she still has trouble believing that someone like Yoriko could love someone like her. Kind, understanding Yoriko, whose biggest concern after learning and accepting that Touka was a ghoul was the fact that she’d been feeding Touka human food for years.

Touka snorts at the memory, and pours herself a glass of water.

Although she’s glad she doesn’t have to fake it anymore, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss sharing meals with Yoriko. And that she didn’t wish they could still share something –

She’s knocked out of her thoughts but the click of the front door.

“Touka! I’m home!” Yoriko calls from the entryway.

“In here,” Touka answers. She hears Yoriko shuffling with her bags and shoes, and another moment later, she appears in the doorway to the kitchen. Touka can’t help but smile, and Yoriko’s grows even brighter in redponse.

“I have a surprise for you,” she sings, joining Touka in the kitchen. “Watch!” she demands, and Touka easily complies. 

Her eyes stay glued to Yoriko, tracing her movements through the kitchen until Touka realizes – “Are you making coffee?”

“Hush!” Yoriko demands, turning to hide her blush. “Quiet while I’m working!”

Touka obliges with a smirk, still watching Yoriko work. Yoriko had never liked coffee, and had never been able to make a good cup. But the way she worked now, she looked like a seasoned professional, following each step with an old comfort.

When she’s done, she hands the single cup to Touka, and her eyes are shining with hope and anticipation. Touka brings the cup to her lips, ready with a lie if she finds it tastes like Yoriko’s early attempts at coffee. 

But instead, her eyes widen. “It’s delicious.”

Yoriko beams. “I had some help from Nishiki,” Yoriko tells her proudly.

Touka’s surprise must have been written across her face, because Yoriko laughs, and the sound is so pleasant that Touka doesn’t have it in her to be bothered.

“He acts like he doesn’t care, but underneath, he’s really sweet,” she explains with a warm smile. “He reminds me of you.”

Now Touka is bothered. “Hey,” she grumbles, frowning. “That’s uncalled for. I’m nothing like that guy.”

Yoriko only smiles, and leans in close. “Of course,” she sighs, and Touka forgets her complaint as her eyes slip closed.

Touka will never know what cake tastes like, or burgers, or coffee with milk.

But here, with the taste of Yoriko’s lips on her own, she can’t bring herself to care.


End file.
